I believe I wanted to write this letter for quite some time now, I was just not so sure if I should. Again, a letter for you? That should sound a bit pretentious…but I think you deserve to know how I feel. Even if you never read this.

I wish, so ardently, that you could see yourself the way I see. I want you to look yourself in the mirror and, as I do so often, see all the words I see when I look at you or when I’m so comfortably entangled in your arms. Words that prove you are the person you so hard try to become.

I wish I could be more verbal with you, but as I have said before, you feel like home and I’m without words, lost in the middle of all my feelings – feelings I fought so hard and for so long to no feel anymore. I wish I could tell you that I’m just as smart as the other girls that have slept in your bed. I wish I could tell you that I’m just as interesting as the other girls that are constantly in your mind (and phone). My fear of losing you is greater than I thought. I wish I could tell you that I fight for us everyday, even tho you never see it.

I wish I could take you to dance and just twirl for a whole night, not thinking about anything else than just us, together. I wish I wasn’t so tainted by life so I could show you how awesome I’m. But I fade. I fade at every message; I fade at every unspoken word. I wish I could rip my chest open and let my heart speak freely. Of how many times it got hurt, of how many times it sank into my stomach, neither brave nor strong enough to crawl out of its pain. Of how many times it was about to burst of happiness and love, joy and craziness. Of this incredibly sense of pride I have of you.

Again, I wish, so ardently, that you know the man you are and the woman you make me feel. I wish I could say out loud all that has change – good and bad – since we have met, since I first laid eyes on you.

Some letters are never written. Some are never read. Some will forever be inside chests that are too afraid or too shy to share. Some letters die of old age and incarceration. Mine will fade in this and eventually die – but it lived, even if for a day.

 

I have been questioning. To be fair, I spent my entire life questioning. Now the questions are harder for me to answer or to even make sense out of them. Questions got harder and a lot more complicated. Shouldn’t things be easier with the years? Shouldn’t we get wiser? Shouldn’t we stop question ourselves?

I tried to stop questioning myself, but I found out to be impossible. I question my decisions, my choices.  I wish I was as talented as she is, or have my life as figured out as the other one. Or just be lighter about things. Problem with questioning is that you can’t take the weight out of anything.

To be fair, I like questioning. I’m just not sure if I like it as I used to. You know “I love you but I don’t like you anymore”? It is something like it. Because too much questioning, scrutinizing every little thing can make you tired and often unsure. And I feel like I’m losing myself every step of the way. Who am I, anyway? Have I ever known the answer? Or was I too caught up in the middle of this hurricane that I just couldn’t help myself, as I was too busy helping others?

Facebook truly killed my moleskine

I never really wrote to my future self. I guess it is because worrying about something that doesn’t exist as of now is a bit pretentious.  But, there are first times for everything, and this is the time to think about a time that hasn’t come.

Dear future me, I hope you don’t have your shit together. Because, if you do, it means you stopped trying the crazy stuff in life and you have stopped trying things for the first time. It means now your life is probably that picture perfect thing that for so long you ran away from. It means you no longer change your mind from one second to the other and just decide things without putting much thought to it. It means you just gave up and did whatever was expected from you.

I hope you still sail in life, being you and, clearly, regretting a few things here and there, being proud of some other things… But I hope you don’t obsess about things anymore – you know how tiresome it is to scrutinize every little thing. And hopefully you learned how to trust people and let them in, not waiting for the moment they will hurt you. And if someone does, I hope you know now that this is ok – people are their own people, they can’t be what you expect or imagine them to be.

Hope you have finished your books (you really need to stop procrastinating your writing) and maybe you have one kid running around, driving you crazy. And the husband – bearded, I must add (and that you make fun of and he clearly fights back with even worst nicknames and songs). But if you don’t, please don’t get more cats! You are allowed two dogs – but you are good on cats.

I sure do hope you have visited Dubai, Camboja, Laos and Vietnam, as we have been discussing for the past years. And Russia. If you don’t, consider yourself kicked in the ass – you deserve it.

I hope your anxiety has truly stopped visiting you and that crazy dream job is yours. How does it feel to have it?

Oh, and most importantly – you did get yourself rid of those tattoos, right? Let’s face it, we had some fun mistakes in life…but those…ufff